Anthology of Interest
by redwalgrl-RG
Summary: Random pairing drabbles. Suggestions are loved. Four; ZappxKif.
1. Sour Notes BenderxFry

Anthology of Interest

**Anthology of Interest**

**Scenario One: Sour Notes (Bender x Fry)**

The title is a bit of a misnomer, I apologize. These are various pairings I've wanted to try writing, a different one every chapter. Unless, of course, you really want me to try another pairing again. In other words, leave a review and suggest a pairing for me! I have several ideas, but as of right now, I'm open to any and all suggestions. Except yuri, I can't write it. Anyway, the majority of these will be very short and to the point. This is mainly a writing exercise for me, after all.

Rambling aside, here's your first drabble.

-+-

Despite being able to function perfectly fine at any time of the day, Bender preferred late at night. Fry seemed to prefer this time as well, for Bender always heard the holophoner's off-key chords coming from his closet. Try as he might, he could never get the sound out of his head. Bender wasn't musically inclined at all, but even he recognized how terrible Fry was with the instrument.

"Meatbag, you suck." He'd say, and Fry would only shrug.

"I'm practicing. I'll get better." Bender didn't believe him. Fry probably didn't believe it himself. But he'd do anything for Leela.

It was strange, Bender thought. Sure Fry was an idiot, but why didn't Leela give him a chance? Humans were so strange. Organic creatures in general, actually. Robots were much easier. The courtship process was done without trying to impress the other (usually). And they didn't have to worry about other organic things, such as accidental child-bearing. The concept was absurd to Bender.

Yet for all their differences, he felt something whenever Fry played an off-key note, whenever he formed an image with the holophoner. It wasn't for him. It never would be. Leela didn't understand how lucky she had it.

"Bender, will you come to see me play? At my concert?"

"…Yeah, sure, meatbag." Maybe false hope was a stupid thing for a robot to have.


	2. Teamwork BenderxLeela

Anthology of Interest

**Anthology of Interest**

**Scenerio Two: Teamwork (Bender x Leela)**

First of all, I would like to thank my reviewers for all the wonderful suggestions. Originally I was going to go with Limey's suggestion of KifxAmy, but I couldn't come up with a good idea right away. I wanted to post something today, seeing how it is my birthday and all. Excuse the shameless advertising.

This idea came to me from watching the episode _The Why of Fry_. In the intro, there is a brief scene where Bender and Leela return from a mission without Fry. That is the premise of this idea. I would like to thank Microwaved Noodles for the idea, and I actually support BenderxLeela as well.

Futuramachick, thank you so much for all the lovely pairing ideas. Some of them I thought I'd never hear anyone mention. Expect to see several of these in the future.

Without further ado, here's your drabble.

-+-

"Where's Fry? We need to leave." Leela commented, checking the fuel gauge and other various dials and readouts of the ship for the eighth time. "That package isn't going to deliver itself, you know."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Bender popped the lid off another beer and paused to toss it in the trash on seeing Leela's glare. She'd finished cleaning the ship yesterday and didn't want it to get as messy as it had been. There were only a few orders Bender would listen to. Lucky for her, this was one of them. "He's in his room, lookin' up curse words." Bender shrugged and downed the bottle, tossing it into the trash can after all the booze was drained. "Seemed like a better waste of his time."

Leela nodded, half-listening. She wasn't even going to ask why Fry found it important to look up curse words. She clicked a couple of buttons and turned the wheel a few degrees to the right, and then blasted the ship off toward the planet of the delivery, Pluto. Of course, it wasn't really a planet anymore, just a rather large moon orbiting the sun. It should be a quick delivery, she thought as she examined the mission statement again. They just had to drop it off and leave. Seemed simple enough.

Another lid was flipped into the trash can and Bender held out a bottle to his captain. "One for the road?"

"We're almost there, but that's a kind thought." Leela chuckled, and waved it away. She wasn't about to drink and drive a spaceship. Ninety-nine percent of spaceship accidents were caused by booze at the well. Or in a robot's case, lack of booze. "It's really quiet without Fry around here." She mused, watching as Bender tossed the now-empty bottle into the trash.

"Uh huh." The robot reached in his chest compartment for another beer and groaned. "Out of beer! I thought I stocked up!" He sat back with what appeared to be a scowl on his face. "This better not take that long!"

"Someone's grouchy." Leela smirked and landed the ship perfectly. Only one dent the entire flight! That had to be a new record for her. Then again, she couldn't be blamed for that, she didn't have any depth perception. "Alright, Bender, go get the crate."

"Bender do this, Bender do that…" Bender mocked, but did as ordered and dragged the rather large crate out from the back of the ship. "This thing's heavy! What the hell's in here?"

Leela shrugged and pointed toward a large castle-like building not far from where she had landed the ship. "Who knows? But that's where we need to deliver it to. Come on."

Bender groaned and started lugging the immensely heavy crate toward the castle doors, Leela close behind. "Can't believe I have to do all the work around here…" Bender grumbled, but made sure he was quiet enough so that Leela wouldn't give him another one of those lectures she was getting famous for. If it was just them on a mission, he'd better make sure not to do anything too stupid. After all, it wasn't like he could blame it on Fry.

The two finally reached the castle gates and they opened inward after the sentries saw the crate. "What is this, medieval Africa?" Bender grunted and shoved the crate in, turning immediately to head back to the ship.

"That was Europe, and we're not done yet." Leela stopped him and pushed him in after the crate. "We still need a signature on these papers. If we don't get the signature, then we might as well have dumped the crate in the sewers."

"Or burned it!"

"Are you done being stupid yet?" Leela sighed. The crate was getting tugged up to what appeared to be some sort of altar, where a Plutonian priest of some sort was standing. "I guess we need his signature."

Bender snatched the paper and started up the steps, Leela hurrying after him to make sure he didn't do anything stupid, as usual. "Hey, you." Bender poked the Plutonian in the chest and held out the paper. "Sign this, sayin' you got your stupid crate."

The man scribbled an illegible squiggle on the paper and then turned to the congregation (When had they arrived? Leela wondered), "My good Plutonian people, these, our saviors, have brought us what we need to survive!"

Shouts of, "Water?" "Food?" and, "Beer?" were heard. "Those are my kind of people," Bender commented in an undertone to Leela, who merely elbowed him.

"No, no, my friends! They have brought us—" The crate was opened by several other Plutonian who had appeared sometime during his speech.

"Oh… your… god!" Bender exclaimed, pointing.

"It… it can't be!" Leela gasped.

"They have brought us the legendary hero—Calculon, our god!" The Plutonian priest declared over the roars from the crowd. Sure enough, Calculon was bound and gagged, and not looking very pleased with this development. His glare was directed at Bender for some odd reason.

Bender counted the money he'd received for kidnapping Calculon, then remembered to quickly hide it before Leela got suspicious. "Well, looks like another job completed! Let's go home."

"Wait! Not so fast!" The priest declared, and Leela and Bender exchanged a worried glance. "You two are our heroes for bringing our glorious hero! Please, accept these tokens of our gratitude." He pulled two medals out from nowhere and placed one around Leela's neck, the second around Bender's. "Thank you so much, intergalactic heroes!"

"Uh, you're welcome?" Leela's statement sounded more like a question as she fingered the solid gold medal. "This is the first medal I've ever gotten!" She whispered to Bender, clearly delighted.

"This is only my three hundred and eighty fifth." Bender replied, obviously lying.

The two returned to the ship in better spirits than before and boarded. Leela quickly set a course back home and let the autopilot take over. "We did it! Our first mission where _nothing_ went wrong! And it's all because Fry wasn't here!"

"Whoa, whoa, now isn't that jumping to conclusions?" Bender asked playfully, punching her in the arm. "I have to say though, it was a pretty damn good mission. Who wants a beer?" And from his originally empty chest cavity, Bender pulled out two beers, handing one over to Leela.

She thanked him and popped the top off hers, taking a long drink before leaning over and pressing a kiss to the side of Bender's eye visor. "Thank you, Bender. When you're not around Fry, you're actually bearable."

Bender laughed it off, hiding the surprise well. "We should do this more often."

"Yes, I think we should." Leela held up her bottle and declared, "To teamwork!"

"To teamwork," Bender echoed, and crashed his bottle against hers, causing them both to break and beer to spill everywhere.

"You're cleaning that."


	3. Persephone RobotDevilxLeela

Anthology of Interest

**Anthology of Interest**

**Scenario Three: Persephone (Robot Devil x Leela)**

Once again, thank you for the reviews! This chapter was inspired by constantly watching _The Devil's Hands are Idle Playthings_. I can't help it. I love the songs in Futurama!

And before you point it out, there is _no way_ this would have ever happened. Fry would never, ever be this out of character. I acknowledge it. Just pretend the Devil's hands took over his mind or something and ignore it, please.

I know I'm wasting space, but I'd like to answer my reviews here, since my PM system isn't working, nor is my email. Skip these if you wish.

_Microwaved Noodles:_ Thanks for the wonderful review. I personally really want to try my hand at ZapKif, but have yet to come up with a good idea. Zap is one of my favorite characters, personality-wise. Sadly, I'm not sure I could keep up with his humor. I do intend to try though. As for ZoidbergHermes, I _have_ to write that now. Have to. It will be done sooner or later. Once again, thank you!

_Kaboot:_ Thank you very much! I adore BenderLeela and hope to write more at some point. Possibly something involving more Fry-ness. Thanks again!

_Swann Hunter: _I usually don't write very convincing fluff. Thanks!

Moving on. I hope the title is clear enough to those of you who know your Greek myths.

-+-

This was _not_ how things were supposed to turn out. The Robot Devil slunk further down into his flaming steel chair, giving no mind to the fact that it should, logically, be melting his metal ass. No, right now he was focused on one thing; those damned sausages taking the place of his wonderful metal hands.

That _human_! He seethed inwardly, tail coiling and uncoiling, but the only movement from the robotic prince of darkness. How could he do such a thing? How could he ruin the Robot Devil's ridiculously circuitous plan? He'd spent quite a while concocting it, after all. And usually plans he actually spent time on worked out well. But this! Alas, he wasn't perfect. No robot was. Programmers were human, after all.

There was movement from the seat beside him, and a flash of purple in the side of the Robot Devil's vision. For a second, he wondered how she felt about it. She, after all, probably had the worst end of the bargain. While Robot Hell was uncomfortable for robots, imagine its effects on humans. Well, aliens. Mutants? What was she anyway?

"It's warm down here." She said, shifting a little more in her seat.

"Indeed." The Robot Devil's voice was colder than usual, and his entire being still radiated a sense of brooding defeat. He had lost. He had lost to a measly human, a being who existed for less than a quarter of his entire lifetime. Granted, if he couldn't get his hands back any other way, he could kill the human, or have someone do it for him. But bloodshed was always the last alternative. That, in his opinion, was admitting the ultimate defeat.

The woman moved about again, causing the Robot Devil to slide a sidelong glance in her direction. "I suppose… there's no striking a deal with you to get out of this?"

"No." Nothing would put him in a better mood right now. Not unless the human traversed his way here to fork over his hands. But no, he had to finish that concert. He had to play hero. He'd come here, the Robot Devil knew that. He'd come to win back Leela. It was too late for that though. One human against the armies of hell? Impossible. Even with whatever friends the human possessed, there was no point in even trying. If he was smart, he'd realize that. He wasn't smart. "I would give you the grand tour, but there isn't much to show that you haven't already seen before."

Leela chuckled. It occurred to the Robot Devil that she was taking this rather well. "I suppose so. I am curious though, why is Robot Hell so similar to the hell of human religions?"

"It was created that way, of course." The Robot Devil dismissed the question with the wave of a human-sausage hand. Silence descended back over the king and queen of hell, and the Robot Devil shifted to rest his elbows on his knees. He caught a glimpse of gold in the corner, and noted his solid-gold violin, an instrument that should have sounded horrible, but in his hands was the equivalent of a god of some sort. Or so he'd heard. He would have sighed had he been capable of it. He'd never get to play it again, not with these stupid fingers.

"I don't believe he's coming." Leela finally said, a tinge of regret in her voice. It was still surprising. She didn't seem overly worried, or scared, or angry. Human emotions were confusing, but all the same, shouldn't she have had more emotion one way or the other about all this? After all, wasn't that human the one she loved?

"Perhaps not." The Robot Devil replied and returned to his normal sitting position. He caught another glimpse of gold, but this time was from his other side, where Leela was seated. Calculon's robotic ears—she still had them? In reality, they hadn't really done anything for her (other than possibly ruin her hearing even more), but her hearing would have come back on its own. She was just about as rash as that other human.

"Here," He reached over, turning her head enough to remove the metal ears. "Any better?"

"I can hear again!" Leela gasped, clearly surprised. "Those ears…?"

"Merely tools, my dear." The Robot Devil tossed them aside, then wondered how, if, and when Calculon would get new ones. Oh well. Not his problem. "Your hearing would have returned on its own."

"So you mean…?"

"You didn't have to make a deal with me." But she hadn't known that. She couldn't be blamed for it. Leela seemed to droop beside him, and it reminded him of a purple flower, like the ones growing rampant outside in the abandoned theme park. "That doesn't mean this is your fault." He added, following her train of thought. Humans were easy to read, after all.

"But if I hadn't made that deal, then he wouldn't have had to choose…" He noticed that her single eye was now brimming with unshed tears. She genuinely felt that she was at fault for all this.

There was a moment when the Robot Devil's programming paused. He checked, and rechecked it a few times, unsure of the proper course of action. While normally it would be wise to ignore human emotions, there was something different about all this. After all, he was legally bound to her by the law of marriage. Robot marriage wasn't quite the same as the one humans so commonly knew. That was why there weren't many robot unions—because of the consequences.

He reached out and took her hand in one of his fleshy own, clumsily working the fingers to twine with hers. "It's not your fault. You didn't know." He stated, firmly this time.

"Please… don't…" Leela murmured, pulling her hand away. "Those hands…"

The Robot Devil glared down at the hands. "You're right. It's a horrid reminder." How cruel an irony, to finally feel, and to be unable to express it. "I apologize."

Leela looked over at him, wiping away the tears with a gloved hand, displaying an emotion that read confusion. "You are?"

"Not that I'll let you go or anything, but yes. In a way. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen." The Robot Devil's usually eloquent words came awkwardly now, unsure of how to properly express what he was feeling for her. How strange, that anyone could render him speechless.

She looked away, and seemed to go into a state of thought. The silence lasted far longer this time, punctuated only by the screams of the tortured, and the band playing not far off. Doug hit a sour note again… But before the Robot Devil could go off and scold him for it, or any such thing, Leela moved again turning to face him. He hesitated, unsure what to do again.

"An eternity in hell certainly isn't the sort of life I'd hoped for, or wanted." She started awkwardly, shifting a little in her own smaller metal throne, thankfully not on fire. "But… I think maybe we can reach a common ground of some sort. What I mean is… I don't think I'll hate it."

If he'd had a heart, it would have jumped into his throat.


	4. Duty Calls ZappxKif

Anthology of Interest

**Anthology of Interest**

**Scenario Four: Duty Calls (Zapp x Kif)**

Well, here we are again, with another odd pairing. Eh. What can I say, I do love these drabbles. I prefer last chapter over this one, but eh, what can you do about it?

The PM system and my email are working again, so most of you should have gotten responses by now. Unless I'm lazy, which, you know, I am.

Moving on.

-+-

The Earthican army hadn't changed much in a thousand years, though one wouldn't know it from looking at the high(er)-tech gear, and the massive amounts of missiles. Oh wait, disregard that last one. Anyway, joining the military to protect one's home country was every young man's dream, or at least, a young Zapp Brannigan's dream.

Not that he wanted to die for his country or anything. Of course not! Zapp planned on living a long, full life. Full of women, that is. He wasn't overly picky, any woman would do, so long as there were many of them. Of course, fame was important too, but he could focus on that after the women.

The military was also the only option for Zapp, seeing as how he'd flunked every class in high school miserably, and was getting kicked out for various reasons anyway. Ah well, easy come, easy go! His parents weren't pleased though, and were actually eager to kick him out of the house and into the military. Zapp didn't really seem to care.

And he wouldn't have, if it weren't for a little self-doubt.

For all that massive ego of his, Zapp had a slimmer of doubt that always hung around, questioning everything he did, or wanted to do. Did he really want to join the military? Did he really want to become a famous war hero? _Did he really like women?_

That, in his opinion, was the worst. He did like women, obviously. He was a man. Men liked women. It was the only math equation he could understand, and he intended to uphold it. One plus one equals two. Man plus women equals _right_.

Zapp spent a total of two years in military training in a state of what could almost be called "inner peace." He wasn't arguing with that doubt, and he wasn't overly egotistical either. Things were great, in his opinion. He had yet to see battle, and he didn't even have to worry about rigorous training, since Earth was in a state of prologue peace.

Things would have been better if he hadn't run into the new kid.

Most of Earth's army was made up of humans, most of whom were indigenous to Earth. This one stuck out like a sore, green thumb. "Watch where you're goin'!" Zapp declared, shoving the green alien out of his way, only to get a mumbled response. "What was that, soldier?" He clapped a hand to the alien's shoulder and shook him around a bit, finding this to be highly amusing.

"Forgive me," The alien repeated a little louder, squirming away from Zapp's grasp and immediately starting off. "It won't happen again."

"Wait, hold up." Zapp held out a hand, watching in amusement as the alien obeyed. "I'm Zapp Brannigan. What's your name?"

"Kif." The alien responded, then after a moment added a last name, "Kroaker. Kif Kroaker, sir."

"I like you, Kif." Zapp declared, throwing an arm around the meek alien's shoulders. "I think we'd make a great team. Me, giving orders, you, doing what I say…"

That earned a loud sigh from the alien, but Zapp ignored it.

-+-

Shockingly enough, the two got along pretty well for the next few years. Kif was indeed very loyal to Zapp, even when he did the stupidest things (like steal a women's uniform and wear it, then force Kif to do the same). Zapp was obviously pleased with this show of power. But that doubt lingered still, perhaps even more than before.

_You only want him around because you __**like**__ him._ The doubt declared, causing Zapp to stop dead in the middle of one of the obstacle courses one day. Several other soldiers ran into him and had some choice words to spare. "No I don't!" He told the self-doubt, but only earned odd stares.

_Not only does he make you look good, he makes you feel good._ The doubt next stated at dinner. Zapp tried to ignore it, but it was pointless. The doubt was clever and knew how to strike hard and fast. "Do not." He muttered into his soup bowl. The other men stared for a moment before returning to talk of blurnsball. He could pinpoint Kif's exact location, even though they sat at opposite ends of the cafeteria. Maybe it was because Kif was bright green, or maybe it was because the doubt was _right_.

But no, it couldn't be. Zapp liked women! He was sure of that. One plus one!

It was later on, when the troops had to be tested on their I.Q. (what a horrid day for Zapp that was), that he realized something odd about math in general.

"You know, sir, one plus one doesn't always equal two." Kif mused, watching Zapp write equations on the board and stare at them helplessly. "Certain variables can change the equation, and one plus one can equal five, if you really want it to."

Zapp turned and stared blankly at Kif for a long moment. "Really?"

"Yes, sir," Came the immediate and respectful reply.

"Hmm." Zapp looked back at the board. So one plus one didn't always equal two? He drew a conclusion quickly from that, and turned back to Kif with something rivaling a smirk on his face. "I think it's safe to say that one plus one doesn't have to equal two in our case, does it, Lieutenant?"

"I'm not…" Kif started to protest the rank, but was cut off instead, and then practically squashed as Zapp jumped on top of him.


End file.
